


forget about it

by camboymark (Somethingorwhatever)



Series: the marley chronicles [5]
Category: GOT7
Genre: F/M, Idol Mark, Idol Wes, Light Angst, Some Fluff, Some Humor, bye, idk - Freeform, its vvv light, maybe there's, oh the struggles of idol life lol, starts out cute lol, then gets a lil sad, this was just a random idea lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 20:26:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13489107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somethingorwhatever/pseuds/camboymark
Summary: it becomes painfully clear to mark that the two of them are forgetting themselves





	forget about it

**Author's Note:**

> if you care, this gives a little bit of background to my oc that stars in my fic 'constellations'

the two of them are taking a much needed break from practice, stretching out on the wood floor when mark realizes something. it’s an odd realization, but through his carefully planned glances it comes to him nonetheless. he props up his head and looks at her, waiting until she notices him. when she does, she mirrors his pose, her dark eyes all teasing and inquisitive.

“what’s up?” she asks. he takes a moment before replying as he always does, just so he can look over her face without seeming creepy, and then he replies.

“i’ve never seen any pictures of your parents.”

she regards it for a moment before shrugging and nodding. “yeah, that makes sense.”

“oh really?”

“yeah, pretty much. my parents don’t have twitter like yours do,” her voice takes on a bolder lilt, filled with teasing and warmth. her mouth tugs up at a corner as she hits his sore spot. mark’s head falls in his hands as he groans aloud.

“god, don’t remind me,” he groans, “it’s the worst, he keeps exposing me for no reason.”

“oh, you poor baby,” she laughs. he tries not to tense as he feels her hand on the back of his head, fingers combing through his hair in that gentle way. “he just misses you, that’s all.”

he turns his head to peek up at her noting that fluorescent lighting seemed to be her best friend. it hit her features in all the right places; shining through her lashes and casting shadows onto her cheeks, it bounces off the tip of her nose and right down into her little dip in her upper lip. she notices his gaze and turns her eyes down to meet his. he accidentally lets out a laugh, its small and breathless and nervous as hell but it makes her grin at him. she leans down and brushes her nose against his head by way of a kiss. he wishes that she’d just kiss him though, like he’s seen her do to her ceo and manager. he knows that they’re just little pecks of platonic affection and nothing more, but he’d love it. he’d love nothing more than to feel her lips press against his cheek and then feel them curl up into a smile as she laughed at some hidden joke.

“come on then,” she mutters into his ear, “i have some pictures, i’ll show them to you.”

mark pushes his odd thoughts from his head and sits up, watching her as he always does as she reaches for her phone. a few swipes later and then she’s next to him showing him a picture of her parents as they smile against the typical so-cal sunset. mark is pretty sure his parents have one exactly like it.

“meet daniel and aisha moon,” she says with her typical, dramatic flair.

“oh, uh, wow,” mark exclaims as the full picture comes into view.

“are you surprised?” she asks him as if she’s heard that exact reaction before.

“can you tell?” and she laughs, musical and twinkling as usual. mark swears the room grows a bit brighter at the sound of it.

“did you know i was mixed?” she questions and he looks at her, then back at her parents, and shrugs. he kind of had a feeling, but the last thing he wanted to do was offend her by straight up asking ‘what are you.’

“i didn’t want to ask,” mark gives a very nervous laugh that mixes with her very exuberant one.

“well i am,” she tells him. she leans against his shoulder. they’re both in short sleeves and her arm is warm and soft on his. mark wants to roll his eyes at his own self-awareness and how only she can bring it to the surface. it’s honestly a little ridiculous.

“half-korean and half-black, or blasian if you will. we don’t all look the same though, genetics is unfortunately a thing. otherwise we’d all look like kimora lee simmons and she’s so beautiful.” she sighs, drawing a chuckle from him.

“i guess your dad speaks korean since you speak it so well,” he remarks. he puts the phone down and turns his attention to her, hoping to draw a little more information out of her. not that he checked regularly or anything, but her profile still wasn’t fully filled out online and that little skit she did on weekly idol got him nowhere information-wise. he felt like his entire life had been stripped away, revealed for everyone to have access to, but wes...she kept everything on lock. even after knowing her for months, he still didn’t know the little things like her sister’s names or a stupid childhood fear.

“yeah, he had no choice. it’s kind of ironic though because he’s an english teacher,” her eyes lit up with amusement at that fact and mark couldn’t help but mirror her. “his parents were accidentally relocated after the war and didn’t speak english all that well, so korean was what they spoke in the house. since my parents raised us in my grandparents house, we grew up speaking it too.”

“you’re kinda lucky, learning it from scratch is so fucking hard,” mark visibly winces remembering his times of 2 hour long classes and stammering over the colors of the rainbow with bambam.

“maybe so,” she chuckles, “being raised bilingual is weird. i didn’t know my dad spoke english until i was 6 and vice versa for my mom.”

“your mom speaks korean?” mark asks, voice sounding damn near strangled. he’s got excitement and unnecessary adrenaline flowing through his veins and his chest feels all tight. he’s trying to be careful, trying keep the hundreds of questions he has for her at bay.

“yeah, they met in korean class, so we all speak it at home. it’s nice.” and in that moment, she looks so honest, so open. her eyes are wide with nostalgia as she stares into his, into  _him_. her mouth quirks up into a slight smile as she falls off into some memory hole that mark wants to jump into it as well.

bit by bit she comes back to him, realizing where she is and who she’s with. when recognition finally settles in her eyes, she laughs her cute, nervous laugh and glances away from him, blush running hot in her cheeks. mark smiles and pushes a finger against her forehead. “where’d you go?”

“i just remembered the last chuseok we spent together as a family. my grandma made my mother and i new hanbok and we got dressed together. it was fun.” her voice has that wistful tone that could take mark on a journey in itself.

“you sound like you miss it,” he hums. his finger starts to wander and finds a home in curling around a stray hair.

“i do.” and mark can’t bear to hear that sad note in her voice, so he grabs her knees and turns her around so that she’s facing him and then picks her phone back up and holds it next to her face.

“ _heol!_ ” he emphasizes the word obnoxiously and she rolls her eyes, “it’s like your parents’ dna agreed to go half and half!”

“what do you mean by that?” she asks, tone flat and dry.

“let’s see...well...you’ve got you mother’s nose,” he smiles, skimming a finger down the bridge of it. she rolls her eyes again and swats at his hand.

“you’ve got your dad’s eyes just with a double lids,” he taps on the corner of each eye and she pushes at his chest, whining something about dirty hands and i-don’t-know-where-you’ve-been.

“now if you’d just smile, i’d be able to see whose smile you have,” mark squishes her cheeks together and that seems to be the last straw. she launches herself at him, reaching for the phone. he manages to save himself by falling back, but he forgets that she’s quick as hell and can’t even protect the phone as she scrambles up his body and grabs it.

he groans loudly as his bones grind together in that uncomfortable way that only reminds of his age. he hasn’t properly wrestled in ages and whenever the boys start something, he always makes sure that he is miles away. but he grabs at her legs to stop her from moving anyway and uses all his strength to turn the two of them over. her back hits the floor with a thud and mark pins her wrists to the ground to keep her from moving. both his and her laughter dies off as they realize just what type of position they’re in. mark doesn’t care though. he just wants to look at her, see her laugh and smile and frown. he just wants to see her and figure out who is and where she’s come from. that’s all he ever wanted to do from the moment they first met up until now. so he takes in a deep breath and tries to smile a bit, doing his best to ignore the funny thing that his heart is doing in his stomach, and says “i’m not finished looking at you. i want to finish looking at you. then you can move.”

under him, wes returns his barely there smile and nods, going, “alright.”

he sits up and she does the same. she’s borderline straddling him, legs thrown over his hips, but since she’s not directly in his lap, he forces himself ignore it. he wants to focus on her anyway. she gives him her phone once more and he goes back to observing the little things that are wes.

she gets her hair color from her mother, it looks black but shines brown in the sun. her hair is unruly like her father’s though, curls popping out all over the place. she grins at him and its like a strike to the heart as he sees that she’s got her father’s smile which is wicked in all the same ways. “my mom said that she fell for his smile,” she tells him, laughing after he made a comment on it, “she calls it the heartbreaker when i do it.”

_she might be right about that,_ mark thinks.

she’s a nice mix of her parents skin tone too, a nice and even cinnamon with flakes of brown scattered all over as freckles. the little mole she has in the dip of her collarbone seems to be hereditary since there’s one on her mother too. her father gave her broad shoulders and height while her mom gave her the slight hips that curve out from her waist (the ones that mark loves to hold when they dance close).

after a few anecdotes, he deduces that she’s got her mother’s kindness and her father’s capacity to love. both of them seem to be hotheads and although mark has yet to see that behavior from her, he can tell that she gets fired up easily as well. her dad jokes surprisingly come from her mom and her dry wit comes her dad and she’s crazy smart like the both of them, though she often sells herself short. she quite clearly an even mix of them and proving to be every bit of the beloved daughter that mark had hoped she was. he loves it.

when he’s done, mark gives her the phone back. she puts it down almost immediately and puts her hand back out, staring at him expectantly. after a few more seconds, it finally clicks and he swipes into his phone and pulls up a picture of his parents smiling against the very same so-cal sunset. she chuckles to herself as she takes the phone from him and holds it up to his face.

“is this payback?” he asks. she runs a fingertip down his nose, humming to herself.

“no,” she glances at him, a quick and telling one that holds a secret of its own, “i’m just curious.”

“alright,” he says and he lets her be curious.

it becomes painfully clear to mark that the two of them are forgetting themselves; they forget that they’re idols, they forget that they’re sunbae and hoobae practicing for a tv show, they forget their imposed ranks and formalities and other unwanted nonsense that came with their job and just fall into two people finding new things to like about one another. and mark is so okay with that.

so he lets himself forget and lets himself get lost in her instead. he wraps his hands around her back, holding her like he’s always wanted to, feeling her pulse burst out from a spot right next to her spine with his thumb. she looks at him again, eyes full of something troublesome and shifts a bit closer to him, bringing them just a bit closer. he only needs that bit though, he could live forever off of that bit.

the tips of her small fingers are cold and calloused as they sweep over his brow and down his jaw, tracing fire down his throat as she observes whose bone structure she has. she rubs her thumb over his eyes and onto his cheeks, saying something about his father. then her hand cards itself through his hair, tugging on a few strands teasingly as she mentions his mother. she presses her hand to his heart and makes some joke, but mark doesn’t really laugh at it. he just opens his eyes and watches her watch him. he doesn’t know if he can feel how hard his heart beats for her, but it doesn’t matter to him either way. as long as he gets to look at her, he’s okay.

her eyes flick back to picture, then back to him, then down to his mouth. she lifts two fingers and presses them to his lips. to his surprise, he doesn’t go tense but instead relaxes under her touch. he lets himself forget a little more and grabs her hand, holding it in place and kisses her fingers. their eyes meet and she’s not startled like he expected her to be. her eyes are as calm and deep as ever. she then smiles so sweetly, that it really does break mark’s heart. he’d kiss her now if he could. he’d pull her to him and kiss her until her back was pressed into the floor and she was gasping, dizzy and breathless. and then he’d kiss her some more. but he can’t...so he doesn’t. he just settles for watching her.

she cups his cheek and a strange sadness fills her eyes. she mouths something like “ _oh no_ ” and then kisses the corner of his mouth, soft and sweet and slow as if they really were kissing. mark’s heart skips a few too many beats and his chest constricts painfully. oh no indeed.

she then stands, popping their bubble of forget and holds a hand out to him. he feels shaky as he turns his head to look up at her, the sadness now in his eyes as reality sets in.

“come on,” her tone doesn’t match her smile. mark suddenly feels like crying, “let’s practice.”


End file.
